The Mission on Conziglria
By: John Grey
Strange how the locals
can barely hide their disgust
at the symmetry of our bodies,
the shade of our perfect skin,
the straight-backed way we walk,
the sounds from our learned tongues.
It's as if they see us as
the green-scaled pustule-faced
creatures that they are.
But we don't awkwardly lope along
like three-legged dogs.
Our mouths don't unleash a sound
like a buzz-saw crossed with a belch.
We were especially chosen
for this mission,
alpha men and women,
each an Adonis or Aphrodite
in the latest formfitting space garb.
And it's no surprise
that we have such a hard time
looking at these gross, rank,
bulgy-eyed, tentacled, puss-secreting,
boil-headed monstrosities.
But our job is to communicate,
find common ground
with other worlds, other races.
And we can do it with our eyes closed.
Sometimes, we even have to.
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